Colin Pillinger, a British planetary scientist who in 2003 led a shoestring effort to put a European lander on Mars for the first time — a mission that failed to reach its destination but succeeded in elevating the profile of space exploration in a region not known for it — died last Wednesday in Cambridge, England. He was 70.

His death, following a brain hemorrhage the day before, was confirmed by his family.

Dr. Pillinger established himself early in his career as an expert in the chemical properties of extraterrestrial objects, working for NASA studying samples from the Apollo mission to the moon and from meteorites. He hoped to use those skills to find life on Mars.

He brought plenty of British eccentricity to the mission, his face framed by robust sideburns that raced to his chin, his eyes dancing behind thick, tinted glasses. But Dr. Pillinger, who taught planetary and space science at the Open University in Milton Keynes, England, for 35 years, also brought charm, enthusiasm and scientific credibility, and he convinced the British government and private donors in Europe that the countries that had led exploration across much of the world should extend their ambitions.

Cobbling together $120 million — $40 million of it from the government — he helped design a Mars lander named Beagle 2, in honor of the H.M.S. Beagle, the ship on which Charles Darwin sailed while doing the research that led to his theories of evolution.

Beagle 2 was unpretentious, with a do-it-yourself resourcefulness and pop culture appeal. It was also tiny, just 25 inches in diameter when collapsed into its disc-shaped container, and light, less than 10 percent of the weight of the Viking lander that the United States sent to Mars in 1976.

Some scientists doubted it could work. Dr. Pillinger did not.

“We didn’t have any money, so we had to think harder,” he said in 2003.

Launched that June, Beagle 2 made its way toward Mars on the Mars Express, an orbiting craft sent up by the European Space Agency, an intergovernmental organization. On Dec. 19, Beagle 2 was to separate from the Express and begin making its way to the Martian surface, its arrival scheduled for Christmas Day.

With its impact softened by parachutes and air bags, the Beagle 2 was to open like a pocket watch, revealing circular solar panels that unfolded to capture energy, as well as an array of cameras, drills and other tools to collect samples that could suggest whether life had ever existed on the planet. It was supposed to announce its arrival by playing a tune composed for the moment by the British rock band Blur. Dr. Pillinger had asked the band to write it.

The separation on Dec. 19 apparently went smoothly. But on Christmas morning, as much of Britain tuned in, Beagle 2 was silent. Had it been damaged entering the Martian atmosphere, or perhaps slamming into the planet’s surface? Did something happen before it ever got there? Did it miss the planet altogether?

“I’m afraid it’s a bit disappointing, but it’s not the end of the world,” Dr. Pillinger said at a news conference in London that day. “Please don’t go away from here believing we’ve lost the spacecraft.”

But by February, Beagle 2 had still not been heard from and was considered lost. It remains unclear what happened to it.

Dr. Pillinger was criticized afterward for managerial problems that may have increased the likelihood of failure. But he was also applauded for willing the mission into being — and in the process increasing interest in space exploration in a region that had long lagged behind. He was happy to take credit.

“Don’t let anybody tell you Beagle 2 was a failure,” he told an audience a little more than a year after the ship was lost. “We had 16 million viewers on our website at 6 a.m. on Christmas morning.”

Another European lander, ExoMars, is scheduled to set out in 2018.

Colin Trevor Pillinger was born on May 9, 1943, in Bristol, England. He attended University College in Swansea, where he received a degree in chemistry in 1965 and his doctorate in mass spectrometry in 1968.

His survivors include his wife, the former Judith Hay; a daughter, Shusanah; and a son, Nicolas.

Dr. Pillinger was made a commander of the Order of the British Empire in 2003. Two years later, he learned that he had multiple sclerosis.

In 2010, his autobiography, “My Life on Mars: The Beagle 2 Diaries,” was published by the British Interplanetary Society. He marked the occasion with a “book launch,” rocketing a few copies 2,000 feet into the air above a field in England.

Correction:

An obituary on Thursday about Nicholas Winton, a Briton who rescued hundreds of children from Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia, referred incorrectly to the honor bestowed on him in 1983. He was made a member of the Order of the British Empire; he did not “receive” the Order of the British Empire. The error also appeared in an obituary on May 14, 2014, about the British planetary scientist Colin Pillinger and in an article on May 19, 2014, about the death of Louise Wilson, one of the world’s pre-eminent instructors of fashion design.

A version of this article appears in print on , on Page B19 of the New York edition with the headline: Colin Pillinger, 70; Set Europe’s Eye on Space. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe